The Curtain Falls
by VampireNaomi
Summary: Based on Kaiketsu Zorro. AU. A short take on what could have happened if the events of the final episode had been a little different. Told from various characters' perspectives. Spoilers for the last episode. Character deaths.
1. Gabriel

This fic is based on the 1996 anime adaptation, Kaiketsu Zorro.

This story was born out of one line that came to my head without any warning. It's based on the idea of what might have happened if Raymond hadn't died in the last episode. At first this was going to be just a one-shot, but then I felt the need to write a little bit from Diego's perspective. Before I knew it, I was writing something about almost all the main characters.

This story has no continuous plot. Rather, it's a series of connected scenes from different characters' perspectives. I wrote the chapters in a completely different order than the one in which I eventually posted them. At first I was going to post them in that order, but then I decided that it would make the story too confusing without contributing anything. Changing the order of the chapters so that it's chronological makes the story easier to follow, even if some details now feel a little out of place.

As the summary says, this story includes character death.

Special thanks to **DeathMask81** for pointing out that I had made an error about where the fire took place.

**THE CURTAIN FALLS**

**Gabriel**

Gabriel didn't think he had ever felt as uncomfortable standing in Commander Raymond's office as he now did. That the commander was angry was nothing new, nor was the fact that his anger was directed at his lieutenant. Gabriel was used to all of this, but the barely noticeable shaking of Raymond's hand as he read the letter unnerved him. Beyond the anger, he was sure he could see nervousness in the commander's blue eyes.

He stood as straight as he could and waited for orders, hoping that he was only imagining things. Every moment that went by without Raymond saying anything was slow torture. He tried not to think about what would happen if Raymond didn't know what to do. They had revealed their whole plan to the governor general and had then failed to kill him. They only had moments to act before they were doomed.

Raymond crumbled the letter into a ball and threw it away with a snarl. "The nerve of that man!" he muttered.

Gabriel had of course read the letter as well. Everyone in San Tasco had. It contained a detailed list of many of their crimes and invited the people to join the governor general in opposing them. He had been hoping that it was fake, that the governor general had died when his carriage had plunged into the sea. Based on Raymond's reaction, it was genuine.

"Sir, what are we going to do?" he asked.

Raymond had been leaning his chin on his knuckles and staring at the desk. He turned his eyes to Gabriel when he heard him speak, like he had momentarily forgotten that he was there.

"What do you think?" he asked. "We have to finish this and kill the governor general before news of this incident makes it outside San Tasco."

"And how are we going to find him? He could be anywhere, and -" Gabriel started, but Raymond interrupted him swiftly.

"I have already made an announcement that the governor general has betrayed this land and the people. You will take the men and search for him. Make it clear that everyone who is withholding any information about him will be executed as a rebel," he said. His voice was thick with impatience and fury, but his words failed to convince Gabriel the way they usually did.

Gabriel couldn't help but think that all of this sounded a little too desperate. Raymond's plans were usually fool-proof and took all details into consideration. If it hadn't been for Zorro, all of their operations would have been successful. This time, Zorro wasn't even needed. So many other things could go wrong.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He had known that there were risks when he had joined Raymond, but he had never seriously considered the possibility that it could all come down to this. The thought that his life and career could end this way was unbearable.

He had to swallow before he spoke again. "Sir…" he started.

The frown on Raymond's face deepened. "What is it, Lieutenant? Why are you still here?" he asked.

"Sir, if we go through with this, the risks are too great. If we fail, they will arrest us, and that will be the end of us," Gabriel said, trying to ignore how the words made his stomach clench.

"I know that, you idiot. Which is why I'm asking why you're still here," Raymond replied. He was sitting completely still, staring at Gabriel with a vicious look in his eyes.

"Maybe we should just forget about it. If we order the men to search for the governor general, we can easily slip away and leave all of this behind. We could… we –" Gabriel said, talking fast because he was afraid he might lose his courage if he spent too long thinking about what he was saying.

He drifted off when Raymond started to laugh.

"Even at a moment like this, you manage to amuse me, Lieutenant," Raymond said, though there was no genuine mirth in his voice. "If we fled, what would we do then? What kind of lives could we lead? Please enlighten me."

"Well…" Gabriel said, suddenly feeling very foolish. He turned his eyes to the floor, unable to meet Raymond's glare that said all too well how stupid the commander thought he was.

"Exactly," Raymond said slowly. "I don't know about you, but for me there are only two options. Complete victory or complete ruin."

"Yes, sir," Gabriel said. He couldn't help but shiver as he watched Raymond and the expression that was frozen on his face. He had never seen the commander look that bothered, and it frightened him. It occurred to him how much things had changed in such a short time. Only a few weeks before, life had been so simple. Threaten the locals a little, go about doing his duties, boast to Lolita, try to capture Zorro, yell at Gonzales. He wondered if losing that stable life had been worth it. For the first time ever, he considered whether they had gone too far.

Raymond leaned back in his chair and regarded him with a thoughtful look. "It appears that you're worried, Lieutenant," he said.

That was an understatement. Gabriel was terrified. He felt like his whole body was prickling and that if he let go of the remains of his self-control, he would be trembling. He knew it was only the matter of hours before he would lose everything he held dear. This was their last chance to set into motion a desperate plan to fix everything.

Raymond's face melted into a smile, and for the first time during their conversation he looked confident. Gabriel felt relief wash over him. If the commander could look like that, he clearly had some ace up his sleeve that he hadn't revealed to anyone. Maybe they would make it after all.

"You have no reason to trouble yourself, Lieutenant. I have everything under control. Zorro and the rebels have already lost," Raymond said.

"How can you be so sure, sir?" Gabriel asked, not daring to allow himself that sliver of hope just yet.

"Do you doubt me?" Raymond asked, and Gabriel relished the sudden harshness in his voice. When Raymond used that tone, he was always in full control of everything. The nervousness he had noticed earlier must have been only his imagination.

"Of course not, sir," Gabriel said. He felt his uneasiness vanish as he watched Raymond. The commander's shoulders were stiff with irritation. His eyes held that cruel glint that usually made Gabriel want to turn his gaze away, but this time it only filled him with relief. Raymond was still the commander that he had grown to fear and occasionally hate. Whatever his plan was, it would get the two of them out of trouble.

"Then go. You have your orders," Raymond said.

"I will do my best," Gabriel promised.

"I hope so," Raymond said with a nod.

Gabriel left the room, determined to find and kill that damn governor general, no matter what price he had to pay to do it. Raymond's smile had given him all the confidence he needed.

* * *

Gabriel sputtered and spat out water as he emerged from the fountain. What the hell had just happened? He had been about to kill that useless Gonzales and then – He groaned as he reached up to touch the back of his head and flinched at the sudden pain.

There was laughter. When he turned to look, he saw Gonzales, Jekyll and two dozen townspeople standing by the fountain. Laughing. At him. The de la Vega housekeeper was holding a club in her hands, and Gabriel no longer had to wonder what had stopped him from giving Gonzales what he deserved.

"Damn you all," he growled at them as he tried to ignore the throbbing in his head and clear his thoughts.

"Lieutenant Gabriel, I'm placing you under arrest for the attempted murder of the governor general and numerous other crimes," Jekyll said in a stern voice. Gabriel turned to glare at him, feeling his anger flare up at the cold professionalism on Jekyll's face. He had always disliked the colonel, but now he would have given anything to kill him.

"You're idiots if you think you can get me like this," he said.

"Give up. You've lost. There's nothing you can do anymore," Jekyll said. His words made Gabriel slit his eyes in anger and frustration. He did his best to ignore the panic that threatened to take control and make his breathing erratic. He couldn't give up like this. Not when he knew what it would mean for him.

"You're wrong," he growled. There had to be another chance for him. He'd do anything and use the most shameful and dirtiest tricks if it just meant it wouldn't end like this. He fumbled around under the water to find his sword, hoping that nobody would notice until it was too late. All he had to do was to win some more time and then –

"Hey, what's that?" someone in the crowd asked all of a sudden and pointed at the sky in the distance.

Everyone turned to look, including Gabriel. Thick, black smoke was smudging the clear blue of the sky and rising to the heights as mighty clouds. Gabriel could only stare, his breath caught in his throat and his sword forgotten. No. It couldn't be.

"The mansion is on fire," Gonzales whispered, stunned.

"That's impossible," Jekyll said. He kept staring at the smoke with disbelieving and shocked eyes. The mansion was one of the oldest buildings in San Tasco. It had always stood there, as if watching over the city and representing order and justice.

Gabriel was just as upset, but for entirely different reasons. He had his pride as an officer, and in any other circumstances he would have been angry and offended that someone had the nerve to violate their most important building like that, but right now he couldn't have cared less. There was only one person who had the audacity to do something like this.

Raymond had stayed behind at the mansion when Gabriel and the men had come to town. Gabriel hadn't thought twice about it – after all, that's how it always went, and he had thought Raymond still had some preparations for his plan. He could have kicked himself. It was painfully clear now that Raymond had never had anything resembling a plan. He had simply sent Gabriel and the soldiers to sacrifice themselves so that he'd win a little more time for himself. What the commander hoped to accomplish by burning the mansion, he didn't know, nor did he care. All that mattered was that the cold smirk on Raymond's face had been a lie.

Damn him! Damn that bastard to the deepest hell! Gabriel felt like he'd burst from the sudden anger and pain of betrayal. He had given up the chance to escape because he had thought Raymond knew what he was doing. He could have easily left San Tasco and survived, but no. He had been foolish enough to trust that snake!

"Damn you all! You'll never get me!" he snarled at the people. He jumped on his feet and out of the fountain. The commoners made way for him in startled surprise, but some of the soldiers weren't that easily stunned. He felt strong arms grab him and pull him to the ground. Groaning in pain and frustration, he struggled against the men who were trying to hold him down. All logic was lost to the burning panic in his chest – he would not be caught like this! – and he managed to kick off one of the soldiers. The other one received a punch to the face and let go of him with a pained a howl.

Gabriel staggered up and ran for it. He heard Jekyll shout at the soldiers to stop him, but he barely heard the words. He didn't glance over his shoulder to see what they were doing. All he knew was that he had to get away. He didn't want to be captured. He didn't want to face a trial. He didn't want to be executed or go to prison.

If he could just get behind that corner, then he'd –


	2. Zorro

**THE CURTAIN FALLS**

**Zorro**

Zorro clenched his jaws at the heat of the flames all around him. It was almost unbearable to walk through the empty hallways of the mansion, and he knew that it would be only the matter of some ten minutes before the fire consumed everything. There was smoke everywhere, and he had to cover his mouth with his cape every time he entered one of the smaller rooms.

It was amazing how fast the fire had spread. This couldn't be just a coincidence; Raymond had to have prepared everything. Zorro didn't think the commander wanted to accomplish anything by it. Most likely this was only his desperate attempt to take everyone with him if he had to go down. Or maybe he just wanted his defeat to be remembered.

"Raymond, come out, you coward! Fight me!" Zorro called out. He had to end this fast. If he stayed inside for much longer, the smoke and the flames would kill him. For a moment, he wondered if this was exactly what Raymond wanted and if he had walked right into his trap, but then he saw the commander stand before him, almost concealed by the smoke.

"Your soldiers have been captured. It's over. You lost," Zorro said.

A crooked grin crossed Raymond's face. "Could be, but the two of us still have a score to settle," he said. He unsheathed his sword and charged at Zorro without another word. Their swords clashed, and Zorro was surprised to feel the strength of the blow and to see the empty hate in Raymond's eyes. He had faced the commander only once before. Back then his movements had been controlled and his technique remarkable – Zorro truly didn't know if he could have defeated him.

But now all that was gone. Raymond's attacks were furious, and he was putting all his strength into them. Zorro had to give his everything to block them. His arms soon ached from the strain, but he knew that if he let even one slash meet its mark, it would be the end of him. Raymond had lost everything and had nothing else left to gain but the death of his enemy.

He raised his blade and attacked, trying to slash Raymond to his side. This was a battle to the death, Zorro knew. He had entered the burning building with the grim knowledge that he'd leave it alone or not at all. He momentarily thought of Lolita, his father and all the others he'd never see if the worst happened, but he was forced to push the thought out of his mind when Raymond blocked his attack just before it would have cut his side.

"Not so good today, are you, Zorro?" Raymond asked snidely.

"This is insanity," Zorro replied. "The fire will consume the building any moment now. We should get out of here while we still have the chance."

Raymond laughed. "You know just as well as I do what awaits me outside. So thank you for the offer, but I'd rather finish this here," he replied. He brought up his blade for another attack that forced Zorro to retreat a couple of steps towards the flames that were licking the wall behind him. Zorro hissed at the heat and quickly responded to the attack to get away from the fire.

He wished he could have argued with Raymond, but the man had a point. He had lost. His crimes were so severe that he was without hope. Zorro felt no sympathy for him. He had warned Raymond countless times about what would happen if he didn't change his ways. The commander deserved everything he got. He just wished they could have ended this elsewhere.

"Is this really how you want to die? Here in these ruins?" he asked.

"I never said I'm going to die. But if it comes to that, this place is as good as any," Raymond said. He drew back his blade for another attack. "As long as I see your blood spilled first!"

Zorro readied himself for the attack, but it never came. Just as Raymond was about to charge at him, the ceiling above him caved in, and burning debris and wood fell down. The commander brought up his arm to shield his face, so he didn't see the wooden column that was half-burnt and could no longer support the weight of the ceiling. With a long-suffering creak, it fell down just as Zorro yelled a warning. He couldn't help it; it was an instinctive thing to do when someone was in danger.

Raymond had the time to turn his head half-way to look before the column collapsed on him and pinned him to the ground. His sword flew from his hand. More debris and pieces of the ceiling followed when the column was no longer there to support it. Raymond let out a pained howl as he tried to shove the burning wreck off him, but it was almost impossible for him to move with the column pressing on his back.

For a moment, Zorro could only blink and stare at the fallen commander, surprised by how suddenly everything had changed. He nearly took a step back when Raymond lifted his head and glared at him with the most vicious look he had ever seen in the commander's eyes.

"Well?" he urged angrily. "What are you waiting for?"

Zorro stood like frozen on his spot. He was panting from their duel, and the smoke in the air made him feel like he was going to choke. He had to get out soon. He had to end this now, but the sword suddenly felt heavy in his hand.

"I never thought you'd be such a coward. Aren't you a man enough to finish this?" Raymond asked, his voice unnaturally harsh for him. The frown on his face became even darker. "Or will you let the fire do the job for you?" He tried to move again to get up from the floor, and his face twisted in anguish as the column shifted slightly.

Zorro knew what he had to do, but he wasn't prepared to kill a man who was this helpless. He felt sick as he imagined what it would be like to take the life of someone who couldn't defend himself. At the same time, he knew there was no other option. This was what he had come to do. It was what Raymond deserved. Did it really matter whether he killed him like this or in a fair battle?

He tried to imagine what his father and Lolita would say if he told them how the duel had ended. Would they understand, or would they be disappointed in him? Would they think, even for a moment, that he was a murderer? Even if they didn't judge him, would he be able to live with himself? He had had to kill some of his enemies before, but it had always been in self-defence. Never like this.

He suddenly felt more doubtful than ever before during his fight for justice. What he knew was right was the opposite of what he felt was right.

And what would the officials say? Would they be able to condemn all of Raymond's decisions and change things for the people of San Tasco if the commander didn't first face a trial? Zorro knew the governor general would believe everything, but what about the others in Spain? What if they decided that Raymond had been right and that Zorro was only a dangerous outlaw who had assassinated him? What if they sent someone even worse to take his place?

"Answer me, dammit!" Raymond growled.

Zorro tightened his grip on his sword. Still undecided, he took a step closer to the commander. The part of the column that was pinning him to the ground wasn't burning, only both ends of it were. The debris all over him didn't look like it had caused any serious injuries either. He just couldn't move, but it would be only the matter of time before he suffocated on the smoke or the flames reached him.

Zorro would only have to turn his back and leave without staining his hands, but somehow that felt like the worst of all of his options.

"Ha! I always knew you were nothing but a pathetic coward who hides behind a mask," Raymond said. His voice was triumphant, but the smirk vanished from his face when Zorro lifted his sword and came closer. His eyes widened, and for the briefest moment Zorro saw fear flash in them. It made the commander almost look human.

His decision made, Zorro sheathed his sword and bent down to grab a hold of the column. To get leverage, he had to hold onto the burning end of it. He let out a surprised yell and almost dropped the column when the agony surged through his hands. He could have never imagined that fire could hurt that much. His gloves weren't helping much, and he had to grit his teeth to keep himself from screaming.

"What… what do you think you're doing?" Raymond asked.

"I'm not letting you die like this. It's too easy for you. You're going to face a trial so that everyone in Spain can hear what you've done," Zorro replied. He groaned and pulled together all his strength to move the column aside. It was heavier than he had imagined, and every second he had to hold onto it made him want to cry out. When he finally managed to move it and could let go, he was momentarily too caught off guard by the pain in his hands to notice anything else. Damn, it hurt so much!

He saw Raymond get on his feet and then almost fall on his knees, swearing at the pain of the movement. The commander turned to look at him in victory, but his eyes were almost delirious. He had to lean against the wall for support, and Zorro realised that the column crashing on him had hurt him more than he wanted to show.

"I must thank you for being such an idiot," Raymond said slowly, trying to conceal his pain from his voice. He glanced at Zorro's injured hands and chuckled. "It doesn't look like you'll put up much of a fight now. I on the other hand…"

Raymond took a fee steps closer to where his sword had fallen, but he stopped when he suddenly saw the tip of Zorro's blade pointed at him.

"Don't move," Zorro growled between his pained panting. Holding the sword in his hand was torture. His mind was screaming at him to let go to ease the agony, and he knew he wouldn't be able to handle the weapon at all if it came to that. "I didn't help you so that we'd go back to fighting."

"You can't expect me to come with you," Raymond said. He took a step back, and at first Zorro thought he was trying to escape. Then he realised that the commander had trouble standing. He stumbled backwards and fell against the wall with a moan.

Zorro lifted his head when he heard low creaking coming from somewhere above them. He realised that the rest of the ceiling was about to cave in. They only had moments to escape. He put his sword back into its sheath and hurried to Raymond's side. He didn't hesitate to help the commander stand up. The man was barely conscious, so his pitiful attempts to struggle against him amounted to nothing. Zorro had much more trouble with his hands that were hurting so much that he could hardly use them.

The smoke had got so thick that he could barely see where they were going. His eyes were watering, and it hurt to breathe. At one point, they nearly stumbled on a piece of debris. Zorro wasn't sure if he would have had the strength to get back up if that had happened. The world was spinning before his eyes, and for a moment he was sure that they wouldn't make it. He'd never see his father or Lolita again. He'd never –

And then they were at the front doors, which were mercifully ajar. The fresh air that was flowing in through them was like a gift from heaven, and he could have laughed in relief if he hadn't been in so much pain. With his last strength, he pushed the doors open and stumbled outside with Raymond. They fell down the stairs, and Zorro let go of the commander. The man didn't even try to get up.

"Zorro!"

Zorro lifted his head when he heard his name being called. It was Sergeant Gonzales who was approaching with a group of soldiers.

He tried to smile. "Hello, Sergeant," he said, but his voice sounded hoarse and weak to him.

"What happened?" Gonzales asked in worry. He turned to look at Raymond. "Is he –?"

"No. And I'll tell you everything later," Zorro said. He grimaced as he became more aware of the pain in his hands and how utterly tired he was suddenly feeling. His head and lungs hurt from breathing the smoke, and he felt like his whole face had to be burnt from the heat of the flames. He was ready to throw up.

"Of course," Gonzales said. He hesitated for a moment. "I think everyone is on your side now, but I think it would still be better if you disappeared as soon as possible. Just to avoid difficult questions," he said.

Like whose face is behind this mask, Zorro thought.

"That would be for the best," he agreed. He whistled for Viento, and the horse appeared almost immediately. Mounting the animal was difficult with his injured hands, but Gonzales was kind enough to help him. The Sergeant frowned in worry when he saw their condition, but he didn't say anything.

Zorro glanced one last time at Raymond. "I have fought my battle. I will leave the rest to you," he said.

"Right," Gonzales said. "And thank you."

Zorro struck his heels against Viento's sides, and the horse immediately turned around and started galloping away. Zorro was sure that his friend knew exactly where he wanted to go, but he still leaned against the horse's neck to mutter something into his ear.

"Take me home, Viento."


	3. Bernard

This is where the story jumps a couple of weeks further in time.

**THE CURTAIN FALLS**

**Bernard**

"Figaro, catch!" Bernard urged and threw the stick into the bushes. The little bulldog hurried after it and spent a good while sniffing around before he found it and returned it to his owner. Bernard took the stick and stroke Figaro between the ears. He laughed as the dog tried to turn his head to lick his hand.

"Good boy!" he praised his pet and threw the stick away again. They spent a moment playing together until Bernard decided they needed to rest a little before it was time for lunch. He leaned back on the grass and closed his eyes, enjoying the warm feeling of sunlight on his face. The scent of the grass was almost intoxicating, and Figaro's steady panting by his side made it tempting to just fall asleep.

It was so peaceful. A fly was buzzing somewhere around his ear, and he momentarily wondered if he should have swatted it away, but then he decided it wasn't worth the effort. He was all too comfortable just lying around, knowing that he could do so without worries.

If someone had seen him at that moment, they would have found it difficult to believe that this young boy was actually Little Zorro. There was nothing cunning or rash about him; he looked just like any other nine year old boy having a nap with his dog. It wasn't an act he had developed to hide his secret identity – unlike Diego, Bernard had never had to pretend to be something that he wasn't. He didn't have to alternate between two identities; all he had to do was to be himself.

Someone who didn't know him could have easily thought that Bernard didn't understand the responsibilities that came with his double life. He was so young, and the playful smile on his face as he rode into the night could have fooled anyone. It was clear he was having fun, but he had also seen the darker side of being a hero. People had died and been hurt, and some of their enemies had come dangerously close to killing them. Bernard would never forget the horror of the night when Diego had been shot by the soldiers.

But right now those memories were as far away from his thoughts as possible. Now there was nothing but the sunlight, the scent of grass and the pleasant warmth in his muscles after playing with Figaro… and the sound of approaching steps.

Bernard frowned but didn't open his eyes or get up. The rhythm of the steps revealed that it was just Diego.

"You look like you're taking it easy," Diego commented. Bernard could hear him sit down by his side and how he reached out to pet Figaro.

"Let me sleep. I'm tired," Bernard muttered. He hadn't wanted to speak to Diego that day because he knew what they would surely end up talking about. As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn't help but get an uncomfortable feeling at the pit of his stomach. The joy of the nice day was starting to fade.

"Why is that?" Diego asked, his voice suddenly careful and worried. "Bernard, have you been having -?"

"No, I haven't," Bernard said before Diego could finish. He just couldn't sleep at night sometimes. It was nothing. It hardly happened anymore.

"You're avoiding the topic," Diego said.

"No, I'm not. I'm just not interested in talking about it," Bernard said in annoyance. To emphasise his words, he turned to his side so that his back was to Diego.

Diego was silent for a long time. Bernard couldn't help but feel guilty. He didn't usually snap at Diego like that, and he knew that his friend only meant well. It was just that Diego was so insistent on talking about things, and Bernard didn't think they had any reason to. He was fine. He wasn't bothered by anything that had happened, at least not anymore.

"There's nothing wrong," he said.

"I've noticed that you don't always finish your meals and I know you barely get any sleep some nights," Diego pointed out.

Bernard sat up and turned to glare at Diego with an irritated frown. "Maybe I'm not hungry and maybe I'm not feeling tired. I'm used to staying up at night and helping you, you know," he argued. The guilt that flashed in Diego's eyes only further annoyed him.

"If there's someone who's not fine, it's you," Bernard added before Diego could say anything.

"I'm just worried about you. I can't help it. You've seen so much that wasn't meant for someone your age," Diego said. He was looking at Bernard with such a serious expression on his face that the boy almost gave in. Diego could be very persuasive when he wanted, but Bernard wasn't going to let him have his way this time.

"I don't care. No, really. I don't care, Diego. I've told you that I decided to help you because you're my best friend and I didn't want you to do it all alone. Why can't you understand that?" Bernard asked. He was clenching his fists without realising it and glaring at Diego with fiery eyes, challenging him to try and argue with him.

"It's not that I don't appreciate what you did, but -" Diego started to say.

"But you think I'm just a kid and that I can't handle it," Bernard finished for him.

"No, that's not it at all," Diego said at once. He sighed and turned his eyes to the ground for a moment. "You were great. Sometimes I think you handled it better than I did."

"That's just because you tried to do it all alone," Bernard said. Even after Diego had decided to let him help, he had still kept him in the dark about some of his work. Bernard had lost count of how many times he had seen Diego ride into the night as Zorro after telling him to go to bed because there was nothing going on that night. He had refused to let Lolita or even his father know the truth, just because he felt it was the best way to protect them. He wouldn't have told Bernard either if he hadn't found out on his own.

"You know why. It would have been too dangerous to let anyone else know. Raymond wouldn't have hesitated to hurt my family to get me," Diego said.

That was true, but it didn't change the whole point of their argument. This wasn't about Diego's reasons. Bernard knew them and understood his friend's point, even if he didn't always agree with it.

"But I've known almost from the start. You just said that I handled it well, so why can't you let it be? There's nothing wrong," Bernard said. He could feel the flush on his cheeks and hoped that Diego would finally get it. Yes, he had seen some terrible things, but he didn't mind. He knew it had been important for Diego to be able to share his secret with someone and not be all alone. Whenever he felt the horrible memories drawing close, all he had to do was think of how Diego could still smile today.

"You were always stubborn," Diego said. Bernard was relieved to hear him chuckle.

"I have to be," he replied.

"But you should try to understand my point, too. I'm worried that I've been selfish and that you're going to suffer," Diego said.

"I know, but you don't have to worry about me. Do I look like there's something wrong with me?" Bernard asked.

"I don't always know with you," Diego replied. It was no longer a chuckle; now there was genuine laughter in his voice.

"Hey!" Bernard complained when Diego suddenly reached out to strike his hair. "Stop that!" He tried in vain to swat Diego's hand off him, but Diego just moved to tickling his sides. Bernard rolled over to get away from him and bumped into Figaro who barely had the time to get up and jump aside.

"Don't do that!" he yelled between his laughing and tried to kick and punch to get away from the torture.

"You can't even fight back. I think I just proved my right to treat you like a kid," Diego said.

"Not fair! You're using dirty tricks!" Bernard objected. He sighed in relief when Diego let him go and fell on his back, gasping for breath but unable to stop laughing for another moment.

For a while the two of them just lay in the grass. Then Diego spoke. "I'm sorry if I'm annoying you. It's just that you haven't come to town with me for a few days, and you had already finished breakfast by the time I woke up today. If I didn't know better, I'd think that you're avoiding me," he said.

Bernard said nothing.

"And that's why I thought something was wrong. That maybe you're angry at me for pulling you into this fight," Diego continued.

"It's not about anything that happened," Bernard said. His voice sounded quiet in his ears, and it was suddenly very tempting to close his eyes again so that he wouldn't have to look at Diego. He felt ashamed at his weakness.

"Then it's about something that's going to happen," Diego guessed.

Bernard only hummed in agreement.

Diego sighed. "I hope you aren't thinking that you have to come with me tomorrow. I want you to stay home. My father isn't going either," he said.

"But you are," Bernard pointed out.

"To be honest, I don't want to be there, but I feel it's the last thing I have to do before this is over," Diego said.

Bernard frowned. Diego was again trying to carry all the weight alone. He felt like he should have been there by his side, but he couldn't lie to himself. He didn't want to go to see the execution. The thought of watching someone be killed like that made him sick. It was like they were turning death into a show.

"What if he sees your hands?" he asked.

"I'll wear gloves," Diego said.

"Or you could just not go," Bernard suggested.

"I have to if I want to be able to move on," Diego said. He must have noticed the frown on Bernard's face because he suddenly chuckled. "Oh, don't look like that. I'm fine. In fact, I always wanted it to happen like this."

"What do you mean?" Bernard asked, raising up so that he was leaning on his elbows.

"I was always prepared to kill Raymond if it came to that, but I think this was much better for everyone. He has faced a trial and all of his crimes have become public. It has all been official, and nobody can claim that something was covered or that he was just murdered by a masked outlaw. I think it's going to be a lot easier for things to change now," Diego explained.

Bernard guessed Diego had a point, but it didn't make him feel much better about it.

"You'll understand when you're older," Diego said, and for once Bernard didn't mind it when Diego said that.

"Maybe," he said.

"In any case, I don't want you to come. Stay here with my father and Maria," Diego said.

"But you shouldn't go alone," Bernard said.

"I'm not alone. Lolita is coming. Gonzales and the other officers will be there, and I think some townspeople are coming, too. I'm just one of them. I'm going as Diego de la Vega, not Zorro," Diego said.

"Oh. I didn't even think of that," Bernard admitted, blinking in surprise.

"I guess it's going take both of us some time to get used to this," Diego said. His face melted into a smile, and Bernard thought that Diego looked happier than he could remember in a long time. He realised that it had to be a great relief to him that he no longer had to pretend to be an idiot or hide his bravery behind a mask. Now he could be himself and let everyone see it. He'd never have to do anything alone again.


	4. Alejandro

**THE CURTAIN FALLS**

**Alejandro**

The old don stood outside his house, watching the dark night sky and listening to the faint sounds of the others conversing inside. It had been a delightful evening for all of them. Lolita and her parents had joined them for dinner, as they did more often now that Diego and Lolita's engagement had finally become official. Alejandro was happy for them from the bottom of his heart. Both Diego and Lolita had been through a lot, and he wished them a peaceful life from now on.

In fact, he hoped that everyone in San Tasco would get to enjoy that. The tyranny of the army had finally come to its end. The people no longer had to fear for their lives or that everything they had worked for would be taken away without warning. Alejandro couldn't even describe the relief he felt at this knowledge. Even though life had never been very difficult for him, his heart had bled for the poor people who had suffered the most.

He heard someone come outside. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Only Diego's steps had that confidence and were still so graceful that Alejandro could barely hear him. It was amazing how well his new demeanour suited him after he had done his best to appear so clumsy before everyone.

"Father, what are you doing out here? Don Carlos is asking for you," Diego said. When he continued, Alejandro could hear the smile in his voice. "I think he wants to talk about that business idea of his again."

Alejandro chuckled. "That wouldn't surprise me the least. I'll be there in a moment," he said, but he made no move to turn around and return inside.

After a while, Diego came to stand by his side. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, I just came here to think," Alejandro said. So much had happened in the past few weeks. Most of it was good, and he knew he should have enjoyed all the relief and happiness that had befallen them. Maybe it was just that it was still hard to believe that their problems were now over. All thanks to Diego.

He glanced at his son from the corner of his eye. For some months now, he had known about Diego's secret identity and fight for justice. Diego had been able to deceive him for an impressive amount of time, but as he had told him the day the army had fallen, he knew his son too well. Once he had first seen Diego's mask slip and noticed the fire in his eyes as he watched the people's plight, it hadn't been difficult to spot more and more signs.

At first he had been angry that Diego hadn't told him about his secret. He had been very close to barging into his room and giving him a lesson he'd remember all his life, but he had stopped himself just in time. He knew that he would have done the exact same in Diego's place.

"Have I already told you how proud I am of you?" he asked.

"Almost every day," Diego replied.

"Then let me say it again. If it hadn't been for you, so many people would have died and the tyranny might have never ended," Alejandro said.

"But I couldn't save everyone," Diego said, his voice laced with regret. Alejandro couldn't help but think of the day when they had buried Teo Angelo. Diego had paid a terrible price for his good deeds.

"Nobody could have. You did more than anyone had the right to ask of you. You carried your secret alone for so long and helped so many. And all you got back were insults and ridicule," Alejandro said. He now felt ashamed of the disappointment that had to have been visible on his face when Diego had returned from Spain. If only he had known.

"Not alone," Diego said at once. "Don't forget about Bernard."

"And I'm very proud of him, too. He has done marvellous things for someone his age," Alejandro said.

Diego nodded. "I hope he'll get to enjoy the rest of his childhood now," he said.

"You shouldn't feel guilty about letting him help you. He might have seen terrible things, but when I look at him and see his smile, I know he'll be fine. It would have been too hard to keep your secret all to yourself. I'm glad he was there for you," Alejandro said. He kept a small pause as he observed the stars above them. "If there's someone who should feel guilty, it's me."

"What? Father, no. You haven't done anything wrong," Diego objected.

"I should have realised the truth sooner instead of doubting my own son. And even after I did, I didn't help you in any way," Alejandro said. It had taken all of his self-control to keep pretending that he was disappointed in his son. He didn't think anything had ever hurt him as much as knowing what Diego was going through for everyone's sake and not even being able to say thank you until now.

"I'm glad you said nothing. If I had known you had discovered my secret, I would have just started to worry about you and who else might find out the truth," Diego said.

Alejandro said nothing to that. That was exactly what he had thought after realising the truth. Had their roles been reversed, he would have wished his father to do the exact same thing. His chest felt comfortably tight; Diego was everything any father could ask for in a son.

"I still want to apologize. It must have hurt you to think that your own father thought so little of you," he said.

"Father, I -" Diego started, but Alejandro wouldn't let him finish.

"But I want you to know one thing. Even when I thought your… antics were genuine, I never stopped loving you. Not for a single moment," he said.

"Not even when I joined Pedro's gang?" Diego asked, and Alejandro couldn't help but laugh at the amused grin on his son's face.

"No, not even then," he said.

"Don't worry. I never felt you were being unfair to me. If you hadn't shown some disappointment in my behaviour, I would have grown worried about you," Diego said.

Alejandro nodded, feeling relieved that Diego was so understanding. Even though it was already a few weeks since everything had happened, the two of them had hardly had a moment alone. There had been so much to do – they had both been asked to give statements at Raymond's trial, they had done their best to help all the people to rebuild their lives, and Diego and Lolita had wanted to take back some of the time they had lost.

"Lolita was stunning this evening," he pointed out. "I hope you two plan to marry soon. You've been engaged for a long time already."

"I'm not sure if it counts. It was barely more than a technicality for so long," Diego remarked.

"Maybe, but I know you've been in love with her for even longer than that. And she loves you just as much. I see no reason for you to wait," Alejandro said.

Diego smiled, but the look in his eyes quickly became serious, and he turned to look at the sky. "We still have a few things to sort out," he said.

"Like what?" Alejandro asked. Diego and Lolita had been friends all their lives. It was obvious to everyone that they were made for each other. What could they possibly have to talk about now that everything was fine?

"To be honest, I'm not sure, but I think Lolita is worried about something. Maybe it has something to do with how I lied to her for so long. She learnt the truth much later than you, father," Diego said. He did his best to appear carefree, but Alejandro had learnt to read his son much better over the past few months. He noticed the worry in his voice right away.

"Diego, I'm sure Lolita understands why you did what you did. If she didn't, she would have confronted you about it already. She's not the kind of woman who keeps her opinions to herself," Alejandro said. Then again, maybe this just confirmed Diego's worries. If Lolita was bothered by something and didn't want to talk about it, it had to be something serious.

"I hope so. Maybe we can talk about it after tomorrow," Diego said. He was rubbing his hands together absent-mindedly, tracing the scars with his fingers. He probably didn't even notice that he was doing it, but Alejandro did, and there was a sudden heavy weight in his stomach.

"You haven't changed your mind about tomorrow?" he asked quietly.

Diego shook his head. "No. I have to go," he said.

"Why? What could you possibly get from going to watch that sorry scene?" Alejandro asked. He hadn't even considered going to witness Raymond's execution. All he cared about was that the man was no longer in power. He had no need to see him die.

"I'm not sure," Diego admitted. "I just know that I need to finish this. After tomorrow, I can put all of this properly behind me."

Alejandro nodded in silence. Maybe Diego was right. He had spent so long fighting Raymond that maybe he needed to see the man die to end this chapter of his life. Alejandro didn't know the details of what had happened when Diego and Raymond had faced each other for the last time. He wasn't going to ask. He was sure Diego would tell him when he wanted to.

"I just hope you aren't going to take Bernard with you," he said.

"No, I already spoke with him today. He understands why I don't want him there," Diego said. "But Lolita is coming. I think it's just because of me, but I don't even want to try to change her mind."

"I wish they had taken him to Spain and executed him there. It won't do any good to this land to have his blood spilled here," Alejandro said. As far as he was concerned, it would be better for everyone to forget all about Raymond and his reign as soon as possible. The execution would keep people talking for a long time.

"I disagree," Diego said, and Alejandro turned to look at him in surprise.

"And why is that?" he asked.

"I think it's important for the people to see him face justice for everything he did. If they had taken him to Spain, we would have never known what became of him. Maybe he has powerful friends who could have helped him. The fact that the trial and execution take place here shows the people that the officials care about their problems and want them to know that things will change," Diego explained.

Alejandro hadn't thought about it like that. He supposed he cared so much about the individuals that he sometimes didn't see the bigger picture. He hated the thought of going to watch anyone die, but he had to admit that Diego was right. Maybe tomorrow's execution was the same as tearing an infected wound open so that the rot could flow out.

He no longer even cared to count how many times he had felt proud of his son on that day alone.

"Let's go back inside. I'm sure Carlos is getting impatient," he said, and the two of them returned into the warm house.


	5. Gonzales

In case anyone cares, I chose Luis as Raymond's first name because that's the name of my favourite character and the first major villain in the New World Zorro series. As one reviewer pointed out, it's possible that Raymond already is his first name, but I have my reasons for disagreeing with that.

**THE CURTAIN FALLS**

**Gonzales**

It was too quiet in the prison for Gonzales' liking. He could hear every little creak and scratch, and every now and then he would jump, mistaking his shadow for some mysterious assailant. He knew it was ridiculous and that nobody was going to sneak up on him, but this reasoning didn't change the fact that he now deeply regretted that he had volunteered to trade shifts with Carrido.

He hadn't wanted to, not at first. Few things could have filled him with as much dread as standing guard at the prison on the night before Raymond's execution. But then Carrido had ran to him and said that his wife was giving birth, and Gonzales just hadn't had the heart to make him remain on duty. He sighed in envy as he thought of the soldier who was no doubt drinking with his friends in some tavern and waiting for happy news from home. What he wouldn't have given to be there with them.

Not that he was all alone, of course. There was another soldier positioned in the hallway behind the door and several others all around the prison. They didn't think anyone would try to help Raymond escape, but it never hurt to be careful. Their former commander was cunning, and he just might have been able to bribe someone when they weren't looking carefully enough.

Gonzales shivered as he thought of the man. Raymond's cell was only some twenty feet from where he was sitting, but he couldn't hear any sounds coming from it. That was nothing new. Raymond had been a model prisoner from the beginning. He obeyed orders, never complained and always spoke to them with polite words. His mocking tone and the slightest slitting of his eyes revealed what he really thought of them, but he hadn't caused any trouble at all.

I wonder if he's even here anymore, Gonzales thought warily. It was too quiet. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and got up on his feet. With dread, he walked to Raymond's cell. The sergeant didn't know whether to be relieved or not when he saw Raymond sitting on his bunk, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. His pose was relaxed and he wasn't wearing a uniform, but somehow he still had the aura of power around him.

It's like he's not even human, Gonzales thought. Nobody should have looked that calm on the last night of his life. He knew he would have been a nervous wreck.

He returned to his desk by the door and sat down. There was an uneasy weight in his stomach, and it felt like time had stopped. He would have given anything for a drink or someone to talk to. Sitting alone in silence only made him think of things he didn't want to recall.

Gonzales still found it hard to believe that he had let Raymond and Gabriel fool him like that. For so long, he had followed their orders without question and thought that he was doing his duty. He felt his heart ache every time he recalled how many people he had hurt and how he hadn't seen what was going on right under his nose.

"How could I have been so blind and stupid?" he muttered out loud as he leaned back on his seat and turned to stare at the ceiling. He had had his doubts sometimes, but he had never acted on them or tried to find out more. If he just had stopped to think about Zorro's true motives or taken the time to really look at the anguish on the people's faces, maybe all of this could have ended earlier.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Gonzales nearly fell on the floor in surprise. He hurried to open the door and was startled to see that it was Father Benitez. For a while, he only stared at the priest with a dumbfounded expression before he had the sense to say something.

"Father, what brings you here?" he asked.

"I thought I'd drop by to see if Luis would like to talk to me tonight," Benitez said.

"Who?" Gonzales asked, but then he made the connection. "Oh, you mean the commander. I'm not sure if he's up for company. After all, tomorrow is…" he said and drifted off, feeling uncomfortable saying those words.

Father Benitez only smiled. "All the more reason for me to be here, don't you think, Sergeant?" he asked.

Gonzales supposed the priest had a point, but he didn't feel entirely comfortable with this idea. It just felt wrong somehow, and he couldn't imagine Raymond talking to a priest. If there was one thing he knew for certain about the man it was that he wasn't the type to let anyone know what he was really thinking and feeling.

"Have you spoken to the colonel about this?" he asked.

"I even spoke to the governor general. He shares your doubts, but I insisted that he'd at least give me a chance," Father Benitez said. He chuckled in amusement. "Being a priest has many advantages. Even the mightiest men hesitate to say no to you."

"Right," Gonzales said, rubbing the back of his head. If Benitez had permission from the governor general, there wasn't much he could do. He opened the door wider so that the priest could step inside. He showed him the way to Raymond's cell. As he was fumbling for the keys at his belt, the commander opened his eyes and turned to look at them.

"Good evening," Father Benitez greeted him while Gonzales was busy opening the door.

"What are you doing here?" Raymond asked sharply. His tone made Gonzales glance at him briefly in surprise. It was the first time in a while that he could recall the commander letting anyone see any genuine emotion.

"I came here to offer you some comfort and the chance to lighten the burden on your soul," Father Benitez replied. Gonzales was just about to push the door open, but the vicious look that flashed in Raymond's eyes at these words made him hesitate.

"Father, maybe you should talk to him through the bars. He could be dangerous," he suggested.

"Nonsense. I have nothing to fear from him," the priest said.

"But it would make me feel more comfortable," Gonzales said.

Father Benitez shook his head. "There's nothing to worry about. You can return to your desk," he said.

"What? And leave you alone with him? I'm sorry, but I can't do that," Gonzales said at once. No way would he let the priest go into the cell all alone. Raymond had no weapons, but any officer knew how to hurt others with their bare hands. Gonzales wouldn't have been surprised to hear that Raymond's looks could kill.

"I'm afraid it would be a little uncomfortable to have someone listen to our conversation. I'm sure there's no reason to worry. If something happens, I can always call for help, can't I?" the priest said.

Father Benitez was looking at him with such friendly and gentle eyes, but Gonzales still got the feeling that he was being given orders. His shoulders slumped under the priest's gaze, and he could do nothing but sigh in defeat.

"Fine, but please promise to yell if it even looks like he might do something," he said.

"Of course. Now, could you please open the door?" Father Benitez asked.

"Oh! Right away!" Gonzales said and hurried to do as he was told. He watched nervously how the priest entered the cell.

Raymond straightened his form and flashed Father Benitez an arrogant smirk. "I'm afraid I can't be a more generous host under the current circumstances," he said.

"That's perfectly alright," Father Benitez said as he took a seat on the bunk on the opposite side of the cell. If he was bothered by Raymond's mocking tone, he didn't show it. "I'm rather used to coming here to talk to prisoners."

"Yes, I remember you doing it quite often in the past years," Raymond said snidely.

Gonzales could remember it all too well, too. So many men had been arrested and sentenced during Raymond's reign. Many of them had been innocent. The sergeant couldn't help but frown as he thought back to all those people who had needed the priest's support. It felt perverse that he would now offer the same comfort to the man who had caused all that misery.

"I thought we agreed that you would return to your desk, Sergeant," Father Benitez pointed out, and Gonzales realised that he had just been standing there, lost in thought. His every instinct was screaming against it, but he had no choice but to turn around and walk away. If Father Benitez and Raymond conversed quietly, he wouldn't be able to hear them to his desk, but any shouts or sounds of fighting wouldn't go unnoticed.

He sat down by his desk and leaned his head on his hands, staring intently before him. Father Benitez was murmuring something in a low voice, but Gonzales couldn't make out any of the words. He felt a little guilty about that he was even trying. This conversation wasn't meant for his ears, and no matter how terrible a person Raymond was, Gonzales supposed that even he deserved to have this final moment in privacy.

However, his guilt vanished in an instant when it became obvious that the commander didn't agree. He didn't even try to keep his voice low as he spoke, so Gonzales could hear everything he said.

"You're wasting your time if you're expecting me to express any form of regret, Father. I'm sure you have more important matters to attend to than sit here with me," Raymond said. His voice had a harsh, nonchalant edge to it that made it all too easy for Gonzales to imagine the slightest smirk on his face.

He had seen Raymond smile often during the years he had been serving the army. Gonzales had never thought it made him look friendly or happy, but he could have never imagined the cruelty that was hidden behind such an innocent expression. He knew he shouldn't have blamed himself since everyone had been equally fooled, but he couldn't help it. He had been such a fool. If it hadn't been for Zorro, they might have never realised the truth before it was too late.

Gonzales' frown deepened as he momentarily thought of Zorro. The masked rebel hadn't been seen since Raymond's arrest. He couldn't help but wonder if he was alright. Those injuries had looked severe.

He could hear Raymond snort at something that Father Benitez had said. "If that's what you think, you're just as much a fool as all the others," the commander said.

Gonzales grimaced at Raymond's tone. He couldn't imagine how anyone could treat the priest like that. Had he been in Raymond's place, he would have been desperate for a friendly face on a night such as this.

Father Benitez said something, and Raymond responded by letting out a dry laugh. "I'm afraid it's a little too late for that," he said. Gonzales could very well imagine what the priest had suggested, and he had to admire the man's patience. He didn't think anyone else in San Tasco could have found it in them to offer Raymond the chance to repent. He had hurt too many people and ruined too many lives. That he treated the priest in this way only further confirmed how corrupt his soul was.

There were a few more attempts at conversation from Father Benitez and corresponding remarks from Raymond, each one more derogatory than the last. Finally, there was only silence. Gonzales shifted nervously on his seat, wondering what had happened and why they weren't talking anymore. He thought about it for a moment and then decided that it was his duty to find out if anything was wrong. It wasn't like he'd be hearing anything not meant for him now.

When he arrived at the cell, he could see the two occupants sitting in silence. Father Benitez had his legs crossed and was reading a small Bible he had taken from his robes. Raymond looked like he had tried to resume his relaxed pose, but the stiffness of his shoulders told Gonzales how angry he truly was. He was staring at the ceiling with a frown on his face, refusing to even glance at the priest.

Gonzales cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, but… Do you need anything?" he asked.

"No, I think we're fine," Father Benitez said. "I'll call for you when I want to leave."

"Oh, alright," Gonzales said. He took one more glance at the cell, wondering what the priest was hoping to achieve, and returned to his desk.

Gonzales wasn't sure how long it took before Father Benitez asked to be let out of the cell, but it had to be hours. There hadn't been a single word spoken in the cell in that time.

"Such arrogance and pride," Father Benitez said with a sad shake of his head as Gonzales led him back into the hallway.

"The commander has never been an easy person to deal with," Gonzales said.

"I know, but I was hoping I could get through to him now. He must realise what'll happen to him if he doesn't repent before his death," the priest said.

"He's not the type to ever admit he's wrong," Gonzales pointed out.

"And it's exactly that pride that will doom him," Father Benitez remarked.

Gonzales was again reminded of how he had partaken in many of the army's operations and how he had helped Raymond and Gabriel hurt so many people. That he hadn't known what was going on didn't change what he had done, nor did his guilt. Raymond's stubborn refusal to admit that he had lost and needed help made him see with even more clarity what dark path he could have easily followed.

"Maybe I'll come by to visit you one of these days, Father," he said.

The priest smiled at him. "The church doors are always open to those who are willing to lighten their hearts," he said.

After the priest had left, Gonzales suddenly felt very alone. It had to be at least midnight. Only about five hours until the execution. He knew he would have to be present, but he wasn't looking forward to it at all. He wouldn't have joined the army if the thought of death bothered him, but he could only accept it in combat. Killing someone with no chance to fight back upset him, even if it was justified.

Gonzales didn't know whether he wanted the night to last forever or the morning to come quickly so that it would be over with. Both thoughts made him feel like his skin was prickling. He sat down by his desk, not knowing what to do or think.

Some time later, he decided to check up on Raymond one final time. When he came by the cell, he saw the commander lying on his back on his bunk, his arms crossed behind his head. His eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm.

I don't know how anyone can sleep only hours before their death, Gonzales thought with a slight shiver. He went back to his desk, thinking that maybe it was a good thing he couldn't understand Commander Raymond at all.


	6. Raymond

This is the first chapter that I wrote for this story. Originally, there was supposed to be nothing else but this, but then the other characters demanded their share of attention.

**THE CURTAIN FALLS**

**Raymond**

The air was moist and crispy. Remnants of the darkness of the night still lingered on the sky, even if the pale blue already held the promise of a beautiful new day. Mist clung to the grass and bushes. The town of San Tasco was still silent, but soon the streets would be bustling with life and excitement. All things considered, it was a fine morning for dying.

The former commander kept all signs of emotion away from his face as he watched the empty streets from the window of his carriage. It was hardly entertaining. The white buildings with their small windows and the little stores didn't offer much in terms of a last journey. He turned to look at the soldier who was sitting before him. Oh, yes. Much better. The man's lips were pressed into a grim line, and his hands were clutching his musket nervously as he kept his eyes locked on the man whose orders he had used to follow without question. Raymond loved the agitation in the soldier's eyes and offered him a smile in return.

"A lovely morning, isn't it?" he asked.

The soldier didn't reply. Raymond turned his eyes back to the window. They had now left the town and were on their way towards the hills outside it. It had been a popular place for executions back when he had been in power. He appreciated the irony.

The day of his downfall had started with a morning very much like this one. It felt like all of it had happened another lifetime ago when in reality it had been only a few weeks. He could remember that day crystal clear. The thrill of pressing his pistol at the governor general's forehead, the choking uneasiness when his plans to kill him had failed and the flames that surrounded him and Zorro as they had fought – he could feel all of it again when he closed his eyes. The only part of the day that was muddy in his mind was the end of his duel with Zorro and why he was still alive. He knew he should have died that day.

But it hardly mattered. It had only delayed the inevitable. Even before a single word had been spoken at his trial, he had known what the outcome would be. He hadn't bothered to even try to defend himself against any of the accusations or to argue about the sentence. It would have been pitiful, and the only thing he had left was his dignity. He wasn't going to give it up that easily.

The carriage stopped abruptly. The soldier who had been at the reins came to open the door and motioned for Raymond to step out. As he did so, he noticed how many people there were. Dozens of soldiers were present to witness what was about to happen, maybe so that they'd remember what became of those who betrayed the Spanish Crown. Jekyll and Gonzales were of course there, as was the governor general. Seeing them all reminded Raymond of the person who was missing.

Gabriel was dead. He had resisted arrest with all his might until they had seen no other choice but to shoot him. Raymond hadn't been surprised. He had expected that to happen when he had lied to Gabriel for the last time. Had Gabriel been alive, Raymond was sure he would have trembled in fury at the smirk on his lips. But he was dead. It had taken Raymond a moment to realise how alone he was without Gabriel by his side. Gabriel had been there from the start, had been the only one with whom he had been able to share his satisfaction when their operations had been successful and his anger when Zorro had become a nuisance. Like a loyal dog, he had always come back no matter how much Raymond yelled at him or hit him.

Well, he supposed he would be seeing him again soon.

"Good morning, gentlemen," he greeted the others.

The governor general's face was a stern mask as he looked at him with contempt. "You have no reason to be so jovial," he said.

"Oh?" Raymond asked. "I'm sorry. It's just that it's been a while since I've been out of my cell. You can hardly blame a man for enjoying such a fine morning as this." He eyed the sky and drew a deep breath. It was still pleasantly cool, but he could already tell that it would be a very hot day.

"You should at least try to show some repentance. A man in your position shouldn't be so arrogant," the governor general pointed out.

Raymond gave him a cheeky smirk. "Father Benitez tried to say the same yesterday. Believe me, this is a wasted effort," he said. The good father had sat with him for nearly two hours, patient and seemingly immune to his snide comments. He hadn't got a single word of regret out of Raymond, and the former commander hadn't been able to make him leave no matter how much venom he laced his words with. In the end they had only sat in silence. It had left a sour taste in Raymond's mouth. After that, he had spent the whole night lying on his bunk, forcing himself to remain still and pretending to be asleep.

"Then there's no point in talking further," the governor general said. He motioned for the soldiers to lead Raymond under a large tree. Raymond was sure it was the same one under which he had ordered Chichita to be executed on the day when Zorro had first appeared. He wondered if it was a coincidence or if someone actually had a sense of humour.

So, this was it. It was little more than a practicality, he knew. His days of glory had come to an end at the moment of his arrest. After everything he had already lost, this couldn't be much worse. That was what he had decided. And yet standing under the tree, facing the others with his hands bound behind his back, filled with him with some unwelcome sense of dread. The muskets in the soldiers' hands looked brand new, he noted. He had to struggle to keep his breathing even and to stop the smirk from slipping from his face. He waited for someone to give the men the order to get in position and take aim, but nothing happened.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" he asked.

"Everyone is not here yet," the governor general replied.

Raymond frowned in confusion. Who could be missing? All the officers were present, and there were more than enough soldiers to form a firing squad. It was as official as it could get, and he couldn't think of anyone else who should have been there. In fact, it looked like half of the men present would have rather been anywhere else. Sergeant Gonzales was so pale he looked he might faint at any moment. Most of the soldiers were avoiding his eyes. Raymond recognised some of them; he had used them in many of his operations. He wondered if they felt guilty or were thinking about how they could have very well shared his fate.

"Then _who_ are we waiting for?" he corrected himself. He got his answer soon when a group of people suddenly appeared from behind a curve on the road. For a moment, Raymond could only stare at them. He recognised a few faces. There was Diego de la Vega, the annoying woman who was always with him and a couple of people he had accused of being rebels. These peasants were coming to watch him die? The thought gave him some dark satisfaction that eased the burning pressure on his chest a little.

"Oh, I see," he said to the governor general. "There weren't enough spectators yet. I don't know whether to be honoured or insulted that you invited the commoners to watch, too."

"I didn't invite anyone. The people came of their own choosing, and I decided to let them," the governor general said.

Even better. Raymond turned to address the people. "Welcome, then. You never liked to come to the executions that I held. I hope you'll enjoy at least this one," he said.

What hypocrites these people were. They had whined and complained all the time about the cruelty they faced and worshipped their masked hero of justice. They all thought they were such good and honest people, and yet look at them now. They had come to watch their enemy die at the hands of his own soldiers. It was a clear sign of their thirst for vengeance. These people could claim otherwise all they wanted, but deep down they were just like him.

It was easier to smile again.

Raymond locked his eyes with those of Diego. The young man seemed to be leading the group. He stood tall and proud with a grim expression on his face. His blue eyes held such seriousness that for a moment, Raymond was unable to turn his head away. There was something off about Diego this morning. Raymond noted that he was wearing gloves.

"Nobody is here to enjoy this," Diego said. Even his voice sounded different. It was confident and firm, the voice of a man.

"So you say, and yet you're all here," Raymond said, slitting his eyes as he tried to understand why looking at Diego made a shiver go down his spine.

"We didn't come here to enjoy this," Diego said again. "This won't mend the wounds you've inflicted. Killed loved ones will remain forever gone, and it will be a long time before the people can forget the fear and uncertainty. This morning will do nothing to change that."

"Then why did you come?" Raymond asked.

"To see justice. Some of the people need to see things to the very end before they can believe that things will change for the better," Diego replied. He shook his head slowly. "Don't delude yourself into thinking that this will bring any pleasure to anyone here."

Raymond snorted, his amusement gone. "I never knew you could be so high and mighty," he growled.

"You're the one who has refused all offers of comfort and absolution," Diego pointed out.

"And now _you're _deluding yourself if you think such things matter to me, especially from the likes of you," Raymond said. He frowned in irritation at Diego's new confidence. What right did he have to talk like this? Hadn't he only cried and hid behind the backs of others every time there had been trouble? It was so easy for him to talk now that Zorro had fought and won.

"They should matter," Diego said. "And I think they would if you didn't try to pretend that you're still above everyone else and that you don't care about what's going to happen. You can cling onto your pride if that brings you comfort, but it doesn't change anything. You lost, Raymond."

Raymond had never though he could hate someone as much as Zorro, but the contempt he now felt for Diego came dangerously close. It was like Diego knew him better than he did himself and could see straight into his heart. Raymond loathed to realise that someone could guess his secrets like that. Being able to hide what he was feeling and thinking had always been his greatest pride.

"Damn you," he snarled.

"I think that's enough," the governor general said, giving Diego a sharp glance. "Does the condemned have any final words?"

"I have nothing to say to the lot of you," Raymond replied icily.

The governor general nodded and motioned for Jekyll to take over.

Raymond suddenly wished that Gabriel were there. He was certain the lieutenant wouldn't have been above cursing in anger or begging for mercy. Raymond would have delighted in watching that and basking in his self-importance and the knowledge that he would never let himself sink that low before his enemies. He needed to feel secure and in control. If only Gabriel were there. Alone he was all too aware of the shaking of his hands and the tightness in his throat. It hurt to breathe.

He didn't object when a soldier came to put a blindfold over his eyes.

"Men, take your positions," Jekyll said. Raymond heard the men form a straight row before him. He felt everyone's eyes on him. Even now, he couldn't help but wonder about the look on Diego's face and why he couldn't read it.

"Take aim!"

With the blessed darkness obscuring his view, he suddenly realised what it was about Diego that made him so uneasy. Unbelievable! The gloves! It couldn't -!

Raymond opened his mouth to yell at them to wait, that he still had one more thing to say, but it was then that Jekyll ordered the men to fire.


	7. Lolita

**THE CURTAIN FALLS**

**Lolita**

Lolita tightened her hold on Diego's arm when she saw the soldiers raise their muskets and take aim. She could hear her heart beat in her ears and held her breath. Any second now. Just a little longer. The command would be given soon.

She had promised herself that she would watch and that she wouldn't feel anything, but she couldn't help but jump in surprise when the muskets were fired with a deafening sound. She caught a glimpse of how Raymond slumped to the ground. After that she had to clench her eyes shut and bury her face against Diego's chest.

Calm down, she told herself. It was over. It was fine.

She felt Diego's hands on her hips and how he pulled her close, but all of a sudden the affectionate gesture made her breath get caught in her throat. His arms felt like a prison. Lolita shoved Diego's hands off and turned away. She almost collided with the people who had come to watch the execution, and she felt unfamiliar desperation burn in her throat. She had to get some space.

Lolita was faintly aware of Diego calling out her name, but she didn't care. She pushed her way past the people and ran hastily away from them, stopping to lean against a tall tree by the side of the road. She was taking in air with loud gasps that wouldn't stop no matter how hard she tried to even her breathing.

What the heck was wrong with her? Why couldn't she stop her hands from trembling? It was alright, she knew. Everything had happened as it was meant to, so why did she feel like she was going to throw up? Lolita brought her hand up to her mouth and swallowed down the bitter taste.

"Lolita? Are you alright?" she heard Diego ask.

"I don't know," Lolita replied in a shaky voice. She sensed Diego's presence behind her. He put his hand on her shoulder and then pulled her closer when she didn't object. She shivered against him but didn't try to get away from him again. It was easier to breathe now, and she was starting to feel silly for her earlier reaction.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No, I'm the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn't have let you come here," Diego said.

Lolita shook her head. "I would have come whether you liked it or not," she said.

"I know," Diego said, and she felt him tighten his hold on her. It was only a small gesture, but it sent a warm wave of affection through her. She felt safe.

"Let's go home," she suggested. There was no reason for them to stay. She didn't want to see them take the body away. She didn't even want to know what would happen to it. The less she had to think about the late commander from now on, the better. She realised now that she shouldn't have come. There was nothing she could have gained from watching Raymond be shot. Unlike some of the others present, she hadn't needed to see him die before she could believe in change. She certainly hadn't got any pleasure from it.

She had only done it because of Diego. Ever since she had found out his secret, she had felt horrible about how she had treated him. She had mocked him for being weak, yelled at him, told him to his face how much she was ashamed of him. He had endured all of it with a smile and hadn't complained even once. He had every right to loathe her, but instead he said he loved her. He was too good to be true, and she had failed him. She should have known that Diego could have never changed that much in Spain. She should have been by his side from the start, like Bernard.

When she had heard that he was going to go watch the execution, she had decided she would go with him. It was her chance to let him know that she accepted everything that came with his double life and that she would support him no matter what happened.

They walked slowly, so they were soon behind everyone else. Lolita didn't mind. It was better with just her and Diego. She still felt a little shaken.

"Diego," she said after a while.

"What?" he asked.

"There's something we should talk about," Lolita said.

"Are you sure this is the time?" Diego asked.

"Probably not," Lolita admitted. "But I need something else to think about." Otherwise the all too vivid memory of Raymond collapsing to the ground might not give her peace. And this was something that had been bothering her ever since she had learnt that Diego was Zorro.

"Is this what has been bothering you lately?" Diego asked.

"Yes. It's really important to me," Lolita said. Everyone was expecting her and Diego to get married soon. She wanted to wait a little. After all, while she and Diego had been engaged for a good while now, they hadn't really been courting until his identity as Zorro had been revealed. And that was exactly what was bothering her. She couldn't even think of marrying him until she had got some answers out of him.

"Alright. What is it?" Diego asked.

Lolita wasn't sure how to begin, how to put into words all the confusion and doubts she was feeling. They had already talked about why Diego hadn't told her about his secret. She had been angry at first, but ultimately she had understood and accepted his reasons. This had nothing to with how he hadn't told her the truth.

"Do you think that I love you?" she asked.

"What?" Diego asked, and Lolita immediately regretted the way she had phrased the question when she saw him wince, like he was in pain.

"Of course I love you," she said at once. "But how do you know?"

"You've told me," Diego said. He was frowning in confusion. They had stopped walking and were just standing in the middle of the road, but neither one of them had noticed. "And I see it in your eyes."

"But did you see it before I learnt that you're Zorro? Because I certainly didn't say it then," Lolita said.

"What do you mean?" Diego asked. Lolita couldn't begin to guess if he was being slow on purpose or if he really didn't understand what was bothering her. Either way, she was starting to feel annoyed and couldn't help but frown in frustration.

"Haven't you ever thought that maybe I only fell in love with you after I knew you were Zorro? That you weren't good enough for me before that?" she asked in exasperation.

"Is that how it is?" Diego asked, and Lolita could hear the worry in his voice. He had every reason to be worried. After all, hadn't she been perfectly clear about how much she loathed his weakness and cowardice? The logical thing to think was that she had only changed her mind when he had turned out to be better than that.

"No," she almost yelled. "It's not like that at all."

"Then why are you worried?" Diego asked.

"Because I want to be sure you don't think that. With the way I was always praising Zorro and acting like I loved him, anyone would think that I changed my mind about you just because I found out you were him," Lolita said in a stern voice. She drew a deep breath to calm herself. "But that's not true. It took me some time to realise it, but I never loved Zorro."

Diego didn't say anything, so Lolita decided to continue before she'd lose her nerve. "It was because of Emilio. Remember him? I fell for him right away when I thought he was Zorro, and then I got into all that trouble. It made me realise that I had no idea what Zorro was like as a person. I knew nothing about him, so how could I love him? At best, it was a silly infatuation," Lolita said. She looked at Diego to read his emotions on his face, but she couldn't guess what he was thinking.

"And then…" she went on. "Then I started to realise that I liked you more than I had thought. Even with your flaws. I mean, you were always there when something went wrong and I needed you. I had been so busy adoring Zorro that I had never noticed that. And I think you got a lot braver and more opinionated towards the end."

"I couldn't always hide behind my disguise. Sometimes, I had to take a risk or people could have died," Diego said. He chuckled, and a humble smile appeared on his face. "But I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it when I saw you appreciate me a bit more."

"I should have appreciated you a lot more," Lolita remarked.

"No, I think I would have loathed Diego the weakling as well," Diego said.

"I never loathed _you_. Just the way you acted sometimes. You were still my best friend," Lolita said. "In any case, it was when my parents suggested that I should get married to the son of a family friend that I knew that there was only one man I wanted. I was so unhappy when we came to tell your father about breaking off the engagement."

"Yes, I remember that," Diego said thoughtfully.

Lolita nodded. "I saw you listening, but you didn't say anything," she said.

"It was right before I went to destroy the cannons, remember? I wasn't sure if I would be coming back," Diego said.

Lolita felt something clench at her heart when she thought about how Diego had been ready to sacrifice everything for the sake of the people. He had been prepared to die without ever letting her know the truth, without hearing from her how much he meant to her.

"You're too stubborn. You should have told me," she muttered with a pout, but she knew why he hadn't.

Diego turned his eyes away for a moment. "I came to see you in your room that night. I know it was wrong of me, but I had to see you one last time in case something went wrong," he said.

"I know," Lolita said, making Diego's brows shoot up in surprise.

"I thought you were asleep," he said.

"Maybe I was, but I had such a wonderful dream that night. And when I woke up, I was sure I could hear Zorro riding away in the distance. I didn't understand it then, but now I do," Lolita said. She didn't mind it that Diego had come to her room uninvited. She knew he'd never do anything inappropriate.

"I saw how sad you were with your parents' decision. I swore to myself that I'd come back alive and make you happy," Diego said. He shook his head. "You never had to tell me that you cared about me. I could see it in everything you did. It never even crossed my mind that you only loved me because I was Zorro."

"Oh, Diego," Lolita whispered. She reached out to wrap her arms around him and leaned close. For a while, she only enjoyed the closeness, but then she had to turn her head up and look at him with an amused smile. "I loved you for who you were, but I must admit that it was still a nice plus when you turned out to be Zorro. Too bad it's all in the past and you don't need to be Zorro again."

Diego chuckled. "I could be Zorro any time you want. Just for you," he said, and Lolita's mind immediately went where it shouldn't have.

"Oh, you!" she snarled and gave him a small punch to the shoulder. Diego just laughed and took her hand into his. He was still wearing gloves, and Lolita's features softened when she felt the leather against her skin. Without a word, she took off the gloves so that she could look at the scars that marred Diego's hands.

"It was the right thing to do," Diego said, and Lolita only nodded.

Dr. Timothy had told them that Diego would soon regain complete use of his hands but that some of the scars would never fade. Lolita didn't mind that. To her, Diego's hands were beautiful.


End file.
